


Maniac

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dark, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Porn Watching, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Sex Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Being a detective was to know that drugs and sex were tangled up together."Gavin works his very first case.





	Maniac

Operation Witness fell into Gavin’s lap late on Christmas Eve, 2027. Baby detective's very first case.

Red Ice was eating its way through the East Coast at the time, a dealer in misery as meth had been a decade before. The second Gavin set foot outside the academy he was way out of his depth. Overwhelmed clinics, gang violence, kids taken into custody, abandoned houses, looting. An icer rotting on a mattress behind a living room door. Gavin the fresh-faced cadet died somewhere between his graduation party and his first homicide. He had to take a month off. They'd all seen some shit, but Gavin was the snowflake, the one being bundled off to psych eval because he couldn’t cope. The doctor said he felt too deeply. He was a ‘sensitive soul’. He’d _wanted_ not to feel anything, but that would mean he’d have to stop caring.

*

Being a detective was to know that drugs and sex were tangled up together. Gavin had seen the odd android loitering on West Grand Boulevard during his early morning carpool. You only saw them at dawn and when it was dark. It wasn't like an android to loiter. This was prostitution by proxy; Gavin's gut told him that they were being pimped out for drug money, but there was no law against the prostitution of androids. The law left them alone for the most part.

It was only a problem  _now_ because androids were disappearing from homes and businesses. Rumor had it they were being retooled, memory-wiped, and sold as sex workers to fund cartels around the state.

*

Hank slid an envelope across Gavin's desk. Inside were several print outs: web links, serial numbers, names, and photographs. There were lines drawn in marker between the names and mugshots of known pushers. Those were the days when they still used paper at the department, and Hank was hard line old school.

“Here’s a list of androids,” he said. “And this is a list of android enthusiast sites-- the ones who’ve cooperated with the subpoena, anyway. They’re gonna give you full access with these usernames and passwords.”

Gavin scanned the web links.

http://androidaddicts.com  
www.DroidsNow.com  
http://bioniclvr.net  
http://BotSexOnline.us

He felt vaguely sick. “Android…?”

“Android enthusiasts. Humans who're into androids. I don’t get it either, but-- find the droid, find the dealer.” He winked. “Looks like you’re in for a special kind of overtime, kid.”

 _Kiss my ass_ , thought Gavin. He hadn't the gall to say it out loud.

*

Gavin couldn't forget the first android porn he saw.

 _Married & horny fucks domestic model_. It was an amateur home movie: an AX100 getting fucked savagely in a kitchen straight out of _Good Housekeeping_. The guy holding the camera had his hand around the android’s neck, crushing its face against a spotless granite counter top. The sunlight kept glancing off a wedding band that was too small for his finger. The android, silent for the duration of the act, whimpered as its master pulled out and came all over its silicone vulva. The sound of children playing could be heard as the video ended.

Gavin minimized the tab, walked to the bathroom, and jacked himself off in one of the stalls. He came so hard he saw stars, his cockhead smothered with a wad of toilet paper. He’d left the cubicle door ajar. His gaunt, sweaty reflection stared out at him from the mirror opposite. For once in his life he felt nothing at all. He cleaned himself up, flushed his load, and went back to work.

He checked the android’s serial number with both the National Android Registry and the FBI. No joy; the android was registered all the way out in Grand Rapids, and it belonged to the man in the video. He had no criminal record. Everything was above board. Onto the next one.

 

Hank had sent Gavin so far down the rabbit hole that he'd been told to use a desk with a computer screen facing the wall. He spent his breaktimes trawling through shitty sex tapes and explicit photographs. Some of them appeared staged. If they weren’t, it wasn’t obvious. There was roleplay, home invasion scenarios, dogging. 

One set kept him glued to his desk well after the office had emptied out. It was about a fugitive android stalked by vigilantes through the woods. Naively, Gavin thought of it as fantasy. The android was wearing human clothes. It was male-bodied. Blond with large blue eyes and a thin, tragic face; one of those wussy types meant for childminding. Outnumbered, it relented to the rope and duct tape. They stripped it naked and forced it to crouch on all fours in the mud, so that each man could take his turn mounting it like a dog. 

Gavin masturbated frequently to that one, perched on his toilet at the far end of the bathroom, a blunt thumb pushed against his hole. He told himself that one memory wipe meant an android would be good as new. No trauma. The public had been assured that androids couldn’t experience emotion. When he thought about it that way it didn’t give him nightmares.

He built up a routine. Clock in at nine a.m., finish at two a.m., stop by 7-Eleven, go home and jerk off to what he’d seen that day. He’d save it, let it ratchet up inside him, because he found it made the climax stronger. Soon he wasn’t able to sleep until he’d done it. Abstaining meant he didn’t sleep at all. It was either jerk off or become a full-blown insomniac.

 

He’d gotten a few leads by his second week. He embedded his findings in an email and forwarded them to Hank. He waited for Hank to look up from his terminal, biting his nails. They sat across from each other back then.

 

> **To: anderson.hank@dcpd.com **
> 
> **Subject: CONFIDENTIAL Operation Witness Update**
> 
>  
> 
> [Link] 
> 
> Possibly the RK100 taken from Chaldean Town on December 12th. Registered as “Naomi” with a Mr. and Mrs. Garrett of Balmoral Dr., Palmer Woods.
> 
>  
> 
> [Link] 
> 
> Title self-explanatory. Android is likely the property of this hotel. One of the two men (white male) has distinctive irezumi tattoos on both forearms that can be seen at 4:22.
> 
>  
> 
> [Link] 
> 
> Generic model identifiable by eye color (Pantone PQ-17-0230TCX) and a fabric flower hair clip above its left ear. Last month a family filed a criminal damage report pertaining to an android matching that description. In their statement they claimed that the android had been interfered with while out buying groceries from a store in the neighborhood. (See document attached) The video shows the android being accosted and forced to perform oral sex in a public park. Visible shadows indicate the crime took place at around 10 in the morning. Vocal patterns traced back to a Mr. Jared Simpson of no fixed address. Very likely suspect with a history of drug possession charges
> 
>  
> 
> [Link] 
> 
> Blond android is possibly the same PL100 found walking along the M-1 towards Ferndale with 120g bag of Red Ice sewn into pelvic cavity.

 

Hank tapped his pen on the desk to get Gavin's attention. "About this Witness stuff..." He stopped. He'd caught sight of Gavin over his monitor; his heavy, bruised eyelids and three day old stubble. Gavin could hear the cogs turning as he doubled back, unwilling to involve feelings in all of this, whatever _this_ was. "Is this all you got?" he said instead.

Gavin stared back, cold. “For now, Detective Anderson.”

Hank gave that pause. "Well, then." He cleared his throat and went back to typing. "Carry on, Reed." 

*

Gavin had never met an android before he moved to the city. They were a novelty, same as self-driving cars and skyscrapers. They kept the sidewalks clean, they tended bar, they walked arm-in-arm with the old folk. Harmless.

Now, whenever Gavin was near one, he was overcome. He would sweat. He’d be nauseous.  _Male. Female. Intersex. Neutral. Big breasts. Flat chest. Big dick. Screaming. Moaning. Silent. Submissive._ He knew what was under that mask of prettified plastic. Hey lady, wanna see what happens when I cave your android's face in with a baseball bat? _Destruction fetish. Modern day snuff. Made the perp quarter of a million._ They had no idea.

 _Witness_ dragged on for five months. They recovered nineteen androids overall, and made about a dozen arrests. Naomi RK100's partial remains were found at an Ice farm inside a makeshift incinerator.

 

"I suppose I'll have to call this closure," sighed Mrs. Garrett. Gavin drew the sheet back over the fragments of Naomi's chassis. "I clung to the hope that you'd find her alive. I loved-- I mean, I really loved h--" Mr. Garrett squeezed her shoulder. Hank handed her a box of tissues. She thanked him, and wiped away her tears with a trembling hand.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Gavin, stooped awkwardly to meet her gaze, resenting her cold, dry hand on his. "We did the best we could."

 

Afterwards, Hank joined him outside for a smoke. "Off the record," he said, "I thought that woman was a crackpot."

They'd never agreed on anything before. Gavin waited for the rebuke, but it never came. He blinked stupidly, forgetting to ash his cigarette. An ember fell on the back of his hand. "Can't imagine how she'd cope if her car got stolen," he replied, trying to sound casual, furtively nursing his burned skin. It hurt. 

Hank laughed humorlessly. "How the other half live, huh." He stubbed his cigarette out with his heel and shoved his hands in his pockets, squinting into the lingering sunset. "Guess I'm outta here. Need a ride?"

"No thanks. I'm working late. Gonna get the bus."

"Suit yourself." Hank strode off, untroubled, leaving Gavin alone in the shadowy parking lot.

 

Gavin went back to his desk and cut Naomi's picture into tiny pieces. He dropped the pieces one by one into the wastepaper basket. _You're gone,_  he said to each piece as it fell. He slept at his desk that night. Find the droid, find the dealer. Gavin kept telling himself that's what it had all been for. Better an android used up than a human sold for one more high.

**Author's Note:**

> Since I orphan my explicit works here on AO3, I've made a place to collect what I've written so far [here](http://cupboardskeleton.tumblr.com). :)  
> This fic is unbeta'd, so apologies for any mistakes. Thanks for reading.


End file.
